The courage to arrive at this place
has finally come.
Hesitating to step out of the car,
nerves all built up,
door opens, feet touch the ground.

The day is cold, forty-five degrees at best,
strong north winds.
No sun, the sky is dark,
grey black clouds reflecting the mood.

Stones, flowers, trees,
and green grass all around.
Except this one spot,
brown and scarce is this grass.
Still unmarked,
awaiting a casting and then a setting.
First time here alone,
to this patch of ground,
your final resting place.

Earth and sky seem to grow closer.
Can you see this person standing here?
Wanting to say a million things,
only a few words are muttered,
before those built up nerves expire.

Piercing through the skin,
the only sound now is the harsh wind.
Freezing to the cheeks,
the water flowing from the eyes.

10/17/2002

Author's Note: Based upon my first solo visit to my mothers grave on 10/16/2002

Posted on 10/18/2002
Copyright © 2024 Adrian Calhoun